


Speachless

by SilvenWolf



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Short One Shot, it was genuinely just a practice, like really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:19:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvenWolf/pseuds/SilvenWolf
Summary: Two boys chill out and try their best.





	Speachless

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all
> 
> Okay so I'm going to come clean, I only got into this fandom a few weeks ago so WOW I have no idea how this fanbase perceive these characters??? But I wanted to practice character interactions so here I am.
> 
> Note: This in my opinion is before they sort of lost themselves to the inky madness? Its a whole headcanon I have where you're not immediately crazy when you become an ink demon, but you can lose yourself.
> 
> Fuck it who knows, I might write more chapters eH

In the small room, there was a low hum. Always there, ever so quietly. The hum paused for a moment, plunging the room into complete silence, before starting up again a bit louder. The hum transitioned into more of a mechanical whir and soon a light started to flood the room. It was dim, flickering a few times before somewhat stabilizing with nothing more then a faint strobing of the old light struggling to keep itself going. The light scanned the walls for a moment before illuminating something beside it where it froze, as if it was focusing on the figure. 

 

The now illuminated man groaned, shifting a bit before coming to his senses. Using his arm, lazily he propped himself up which prompted another tired groan of distaste.

 

“What?” he mumbled, an edge of frustration lining his voice. The beaming projector said nothing, instead lifting its hand and hitting the back of the faceless man's head. “Ow! Jesus fucking christ what stick did you sit on today?!” he barked, rubbing the back of his head in annoyance. Once again, the projector said nothing but a small mechanical hiss. 

 

It stumbled to its feet, Sammy’s head moving as if he was watching their movements. Though he lacked an expression, his body language was enough display his boiling annoyance. But soon his shoulders drooped as he watched his friend fumble to sit at the nearby desk, trying his best to retrieve some paper without ruining it. A frustrated hiss of steam was let out as Norman’s inky hands stained every paper he grabbed, the light from the projector flickering off and on in anger.

 

“Wow wow wow, okay there bud, settle down,” Sammy quickly piped up, trying his best to subdue Norman’s quick temper. In the past he already had a few problems with keeping his cool, now with their current conditions it soon became a lot harder. Yet Sammy would jump at the chance to try his best, yet on many occasions the faceless man couldn't even keep his own head above water. 

 

The sound of a mechanical huff came from Norman, his body only now beginning to untense once he had finally gotten some semi clean paper in front of him. Sammy had gotten up from the floor; falling asleep on hardwood only added to his already achy body but he complained about it enough already to the point it become more like white noise. Carefully he placed his ink covered hand on the back of worn desk chair. Norman glanced at him before directing his focus back on the paper where he started to write, his hand being a somewhat good replacement for a fountain pen.

 

_ ‘My ma’ tried teaching me sign language when I was a child, never thought I would regret not listening to her.’ _

 

Sammy chuckled, the laugh bitter sweet. “Not that I would understand it even if you had learnt it. At least I can read.” 

 

The large projector that substituted his head moved in a way that Sammy could only guess was the closest thing to an eyeroll Norman could do. The man crunched up the paper, throwing it at a nearby Bendy statue before starting on writing on the next page. His hand lowered as if about to write something but he paused, like whatever he was about to write wasn't there in his mind anymore. It hovered above the page for awhile, ink dripping onto the golden aged paper until his mind finally seemed to start up again.

 

_ ‘Do you hate-’  _ he quickly ran his fingers messily over the letters, crossing out whatever he was about to write before starting again.  _ ‘What if we never-’ _ once again, crossed out.  _ ‘Do the voices talk to y-’  _ and again.  _ ‘I’m scared’ and again. _

 

His fist collided with the table, body trembling, while Sammy couldn't do anything but stare motionless at the ink scribbled page. 

 

Norman started writing again,

 

_ ‘I don't remember your name.’ _


End file.
